


Confession

by localgoblin



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Confessional, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Masturbation, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 08:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13267911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/localgoblin/pseuds/localgoblin
Summary: Linette works very hard to be a good Christian even while forced to serve Viking heathens. To help keep her faith strong she has a habit of sneaking to the chapel for confession and prayer. It's on one of these secret trips that she's overheard by Ivar who finds himself interested in the concept of confession.





	1. Confession

Linette tucked herself into an alcove and held her breath when she heard the boisterous voices of the northmen coming down the fortress hall. They’d attacked weeks ago and taken the fortress and the small town surrounding by surprise. It’d been a massacre that still haunted the few villagers that’d been left alive to serve as slaves.

The night’s dinner had ended a while ago, but there were still a few drunk Vikings wandering the halls. Normally the slaves that weren’t doing jobs kept together for safety, but Linette had slipped away as she did every week. It wasn’t the best idea to risk getting caught by herself in the quiet halls this time of night, as no one would come to her aid if she was, but her weekly excursion was important enough to be worth the risk.

The voices had finally faded enough for Linette to feel comfortable moving through the hall again. The stones felt like ice against her bare feet, but the little sound she made made up for the discomfort. Making her way in the dark, she reached the plain wooden door that was her goal. Easing it open and slipping through, she found herself in small hallway meant for a priest to enter the chapel from. Still keeping quiet, she moved through the hall and opened another door into the chapel itself.

Moonlight lit the stone room through high windows depicting biblical scenes. Pews lay strewn and broken on the floor. Statues of angels, saints, and Christ had either been removed or destroyed. Anything of value had been pillaged in the first few days of the takeover. While the dead had been removed, there were still dark spots on floor that Linette avoided walking over as she moved towards the confessional on the other side of the room. Somehow the booth had been left untouched in the attack, and Linette thanked God for it now.

Sliding into one of the side compartments, she kneeled before the lattice and bowed her head. All she could hear was the sound of her breathing and the pounding of her heart. After a few moments of silent meditation, she began to confess.

Ivar had found the night’s revelry grating and had left the moment he’d finished his meal. They’d been at the fortress too long and he was ready to move out and take more of the Christians’ land. Ubbe and Hvitserk wanted to stay put longer though. “To settle some of our people. Get some of the area ready for farming,” Ubbe had said. Farming was all Ubbe cared about, and Hvitserk was inclined to agree with him. It angered Ivar to no end, but for now he was outvoted.

Rather than sit in his room for the rest of the night, Ivar had stalked the halls silently, ignoring anyone who came across him. He found himself in the chapel after a time. Looking around the large room, he smiled at the desecration of the church. That was when he noticed the wooden booth standing alone against the wall. He hadn’t noticed it during the raid, but now it stood out in the ruined chapel.

Crawling toward the booth, he inspected the carvings in the polished wood. A central compartment was concealed by a soft curtain, which he pushed aside as he entered. He was surprised to find only a simple wooden bench in the alcove. Puzzled, he hauled himself up onto the seat and pulled his legs around until he was sitting properly. From this position he could see that the curtain would completely conceal the presence of anyone in the booth.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed the lattices on either side of him. Sliding them open, he scoffed to find that the grating barely let him see into the openings on either side of his compartment. “What is the point of this useless box?” Ivar said with a snarl and leaned against the back wall. He was just about to push himself off the bench and make his way back to the halls when the sound of soft footsteps made him freeze in place.

As the footsteps came closer to the booth, Ivar slowly leaned back against the wall and wrapped his hand around the dagger at his side. He didn’t think any of the army would be foolish enough to attack a son of Ragnar, but he would be ready for them just in case. His eyes darted to his right when he saw a figure enter the alcove on that side. Registering the intruder as one of the Saxon slaves, he relaxed as she kneeled before the lattice. Ivar waited patiently for the woman to notice him and begin the normal groveling. When she instead bowed her head and waited in silence his brow furrowed. It dawned on him that the darkness of his alcove kept her from seeing him through the lattice though he could observe her. He was just about to open his mouth and ask what she thought she was doing when she began to speak in a quiet voice.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” she began, “It has been eight days since my last confession. Well… it has been since before the northmen that you have heard my last true confession, though I do think our heavenly father must still hear my repentance even if you have joined him in heaven. Regardless, I accuse myself of the following sins. My heart is filled with hatred for the northmen and I find I can’t forgive them for their sins. Sometimes I think of taking a knife and stabbing one if I can, though I know murder to be wrong in my heart.”

Ivar rolled his eyes as the slave continued to list her sins to what she thought was an empty confessional. While he could understand talking to the Gods aloud and asking their forgiveness, he didn’t understand the point of asking a priest for the same, especially not in a wooden box. Growing bored with the list of sins she was giving, Ivar prepared to interrupt her and send her running off, but her next sin had him pausing.

“Father, I’m especially ashamed of this last sin and ask that God hear it and cleanse me of this sin soon.” She paused and seemed to have trouble finding her voice for this last confession. “I’ve had…impure dreams, Father, of one of the heathens.”

Ivar cocked his head at this, finally finding something interesting about the whole situation.

The Saxon woman continued on unaware. “Not just dreams, but thoughts during the day too. Sometimes I can’t get rid of them. They are worse when I am near him. He’s the worst of the heathens too, Father. They call him Ivar the Boneless, or sometimes Ragnarson. Maude said he’s the one that killed you.” Ivar smiled and observed her with a keener eye, trying to remember what she looked like when well-lit and hoping she would continue with more detail. “Even knowing this, the thoughts persist. I can’t understand what he says, but sometimes the way he speaks makes my breath stop. I want to say it’s from fear because he is so terrifying. I would be lying though, because that voice makes me shiver and starts that sinful feeling below my stomach.”

A pink tongue darted out and dragged across Ivar’s lips as he wondered about what else would give her that sinful feeling.

“One of the heathens ordered me to fetch water for a bath the other day, and when I walked through town for the well I saw Ivar getting his skin marked by another. While I should have been repulsed by the heathens marking the body you gave them, I found myself thinking of his arms and shoulders for the rest of the day, and the more I thought of it the more that sinful feeling took root. Until… that night, I felt too warm thinking about him, and those impure thoughts became impure feelings.”

Closing his eyes, Ivar tried to imagine what she would look like lying on a pile of furs. Preferably without her dress so that he could watch her writhe as she thought of him.

“Father, I’m afraid that night I fell to temptation. My sin took hold of me and I hid myself away from the others so I could t-touch myself.” Having finally confessed, the woman began to sob softly.

Ivar however had begun to slowly rub at the bulge that had begun rising in his pants. He wanted to know how she touched herself thinking of him. What noises she made and if she whispered his name the way she was whispering now, or whether she had to cover her mouth to keep from shouting his name instead. The tears and sound of her sobbing didn’t stop him either. Instead, it made him wonder if her sobs would sound as sweet if he bent her over his knee and beat her ass until it was red and burning with heat.

“For these sins and all that I cannot remember I humbly repent and ask for absolution and penance. I ask that God help me refrain from sin in the future please, and I promise to spend the night saying the rosary, Father.” She brought her head up at last and Ivar stopped moving. However she merely closed her eyes and crossed herself before placing her hands together for prayer. “Oh my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my sins-”

A loud thud against the double doors of the chapel’s entrance startled them both. Ivar had been so focused on the softness of her voice that the sudden noise caused him to throw his head up, making it thunk against the back wall of the booth.

The slave’s eyes opened wide when she realized she hadn’t been alone this whole time, but she didn’t bother trying to peer through the lattice to see who had witnessed her confession. Instead, her flight instinct kicked in and she moved from the booth as quickly as she could after kneeling for so long. Not bothering with stealth during her escape, she wrenched the side entrance open and left the chapel without looking back.

Ivar sat still in the booth. The shock of the interruption and the dull pain from hitting his head had kept him from reacting before the slave had gotten too far ahead for him to catch her. Not that it mattered. He knew he’d be able to pick her out from the others tomorrow. He’d spend some time watching her. Maybe plan to give her a bit of a show sometime. He had all sorts of ideas of how he’d tease and play with her before she’d even realize he was doing it. The thought of it made him smirk.

Then the thoughts of how he’d corner her after and take her penance into his own hands reminded him of what he’d been busy doing before, and with a languid sigh he began to undo his belt.


	2. Penance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linette finally learns who heard her confession in the chapel, and the realization of her worst nightmare begins to play out.

Ivar was going to kill her. Linette knew this to be a fact. He wouldn’t kill her personally, though. She figured he probably wouldn’t even know he was responsible for her death. No one but Linette, the devil, and the Holy Father would know who to blame when she dropped dead. Which she was grateful for, honestly. She’d rather have the other thralls and the northmen believe she died of some sudden illness rather than know the truth, which was that for the last two weeks Linette had suffered from the constant fear that whoever had heard her last confession would come forward with their knowledge. Every lingering look she received, every time someone approached her in the halls, and each bump or rustle she heard when she was alone set her heart racing with panic. She was under a lot of stress about the whole situation, and if that wasn’t enough, Ivar certainly wasn’t making things any better.

He seemed to be around all the time, and anytime he wasn’t there in person there was something to remind her of him. At first she tried to ignore it, and it had been easy when he was simply around during her usual chores. But it got harder and harder to ignore his presence as the days went on. Especially the day she’d had to bring hot water to fill a tub for him.

On her last trip with the pail of steaming water she’d walked in on Ivar removing his tunic and she’d been caught staring as his muscles flexed with the movement. He’d simply laughed at her flustered reaction and hadn’t bothered waiting for her to fill the tub before he began undoing the straps on his legs. She’d kept her back to him to avoid seeing any more and tried to calm her racing heart.

After a few more incidents over the following days, Linette was beginning to believe that the northman had either been sent by the devil to torment her personally, or by God as a punishment for her sins. Especially now that she’d just learned she was to help serve him and his brothers during the meal that night.

The hall had filled with the din of drunken Vikings as they laughed and sang throughout the meal. After Linette helped bring out plate after plate of food to the table Ivar, Hvitserk, and Ubbe occupied, an older thrall had handed her a pitcher of ale and herded her back towards the table. The three brothers conversed and joked in Norse as they went about eating their meal, every now and then calling out “Thrall!” and lifting their cups for her to fill.

As the meal went on, Linette spent most of her time dutifully ignoring Ivar’s presence unless summoned to refill drinks. Had she been paying more attention, she would have noticed how his eyes would cut to her whenever she leaned over to fill a cup, how little he was actually drinking despite calling for her often, or how he smirked each time she jumped when called. She might have even noticed his hand moving up behind her while she refilled Ubbe’s cup for the fourth time. She only noticed when it suddenly gripped the back of her leg, his fingers kneading the inside of her thigh through the fabric of her dress.

The sudden touch shocked her, and with a squeak she jumped to attention, sloshing ale onto herself and Ubbe with the movement. Ivar’s hand was gone as quick as it had appeared, and he was cutting a piece of meat as if nothing had happened. Linette’s eyes were drawn to Ubbe as he spoke to Ivar with a defeated tone. The only word she understood from the sentence was “thrall,” but she could see that he looked tired.

Ivar’s response was equally impossible to understand, but whatever he said had Hvitserk laughing loudly and even Ubbe smiling before glancing up and meeting her eyes. He jerked his head toward the kitchens, and Linette understood that she had been dismissed from the table. She didn’t dare glance at Ivar as she left, but he said something behind her back that caused his brothers to laugh again and she couldn’t help but feel her face going red and hot. She also couldn’t help but feel a lingering sensation where his fingers had dug into her skin.

Maude, the head thrall, tutted over the soaked patch of Linette’s dress that reeked of ale and set her to scrubbing dishes for the rest of the meal. Only when she was finished was she allowed to go wash herself off with cold water and change into a cleaner dress. She was walking through the halls toward the room where the rest of the thralls slept together when an unfamiliar northman stepped around a corner and made his way directly towards her.

Panic rose as she wondered if this was when she would finally be confronted about her confession, and Linette found herself unable to move. The man stopped in front of her and said something she couldn’t understand. She was unable to do more than stare at him in fear at that point, and he scoffed when he realized this. Before she could react, he tossed her over a shoulder and set off in the opposite direction from her destination. At this point, her senses returned and she started struggling against his grip. “Where are we going? Please, please let me go.” Linette cried as she tried to wriggle free. His grip just tightened in response, and he restrained her from kicking her legs wildly.

No one they passed by stopped to help, though plenty looked back in either pity or amusement at her situation. Imagining the worst, Linette gave up struggling and instead sobbed quietly into her hands.

Soon enough, he set her down before a wooden door that she knew led into a bedroom. He kept a grip on her shoulder to keep her from running off as he knocked twice before opening the door just enough to shove her through without ceremony.

She stumbled a bit when her feet hit the edge of a carpet, but caught herself and looked slowly around the room. When she turned to the right, she saw a bed covered with furs and a very pleased looking Ivar sitting up against the headboard without a shirt. She could feel her cheeks heat up as she dropped her eyes to the floor and folded her hands in front of her in an attempt to look as meek and submissive as possible.

“Hello Linette.” Ivar said smoothly despite his thick accent. Her head jerked like she had been slapped and she had to keep herself from staring at him in shock. “Do you not understand your own language?”

She kept her eyes trained on the floor and bowed slightly as she responded. “Forgive me, my lord. I did not known you spoke my language.”

“Because I did not want you to know. You’d be surprised the things you hear when no one thinks you are listening. I’m sure you are well aware of that though.”

Linette shifted uncomfortably before bringing herself to respond. “I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

“No? Then you haven’t been paying attention, have you?” Ivar’s tone dropped lower with the next sentence. “Did you really think it was just a coincidence?”

“My lord, I assure you I don’t know what you are speaking of. If I’ve done something to anger you ple-”

“Hush, woman.” Ivar interrupted her panicked rambling with the harsh command, and Linette immediately pressed her lips together. “I know you’ve taken notice of me when I’m around. You try not to look or react, but I can tell you want to. I’ve been watching you. I got a little tired of simply watching tonight, though. Even I can lose patience after all.”

Linette shut her eyes, remembering his tight grip on her thigh earlier and the heat it had left behind. She heard him laugh.

“You remember that at least. Tell me, what crossed your mind in that moment. Did you enjoy it?” He gave her a moment to answer, but when she remained silent he continued. “Did it make you feel… sinful?”

Her head shot up at that word and he smiled wolfishly when her eyes met his. “Y-y-you,” she stuttered in shock.

“I-I-I,” Ivar mocked before letting out a cruel laugh, “It’s been two weeks since your last confession hasn’t it? What would your God think?”

Her worst fears were confirmed then, and she glanced quickly at the door, thinking that she could probably be out the door before he could reach her.

“Don’t even think about it. I’d find you easily.” Ivar’s voice carried the hint of a threat in it, and as much as it scared her it also sent a shiver of desire up her spine. “Now be a good girl and stay until you’re dismissed.”

She brought her eyes back to meet his and nodded.

“What was that thrall? I couldn’t hear you.”

Swallowing down her nerves, she gave him what he wanted. “Yes sir, I’ll stay.”

“Good.” He gave her a deceptively innocent smile this time, though his eyes were still dark and calculating. “So, as I asked before, it’s been two weeks since your last confession, yes?”

“Yes.” She answered warily and wondered where he was going with this.

“I won’t pretend to know the point of confessing what the Gods already know, but it must be an important ritual if you continue to practice even after I killed your priest.” He didn’t bother giving her a chance to reply at this point and continued, “I am a kind man, Linette, and so I’ve decided to help you with this ritual, regardless of my own beliefs. Tonight, you will have your confession for your God, and I will generously witness for you. Again.”

Linette stared at Ivar in horror as she realized what he was saying. “My Lord, I-”

“You thank me for my generosity, of course.” The threat was back in his voice. “Let me be clear, woman. You will only be leaving this room if you can complete your confession. Otherwise you will stand there all night.”

She weighed his words carefully before speaking, “I only have to do the confession? You require nothing else from me?” Her voice was soft enough that she wondered if he would even hear her, but he had.

“Nothing else. Finish your silly ritual and you are free to leave and continue your evening. I will not bother you again.”

“I thank you for your consideration then, sir.” Linette took a deep breath to steady herself for what was sure to be one of the worst things she’d ever have to do. “Bless me-”

“Ah ah ah.” Ivar interrupted her again while sitting up in his bed.

“Sir?”

“You are supposed to be kneeling are you not? Come. Kneel.” He motioned to the floor next to his bed, and Linette felt her face heat up again.

Before he could say anything else, she willed herself to move to the spot just by his bed and kneel there. As she went to bow her head, she heard him shift and watched with growing dread as he moved himself to be sitting on the edge of the bed before her. Her gaze traveled slowly up to meet his eyes as he looked at her with obvious amusement.

“Go on then, woman. Confess your sins.” He spoke in a low voice that barely hid his glee at her discomfort.

Another deep breath was needed before she bowed her head and shut her eyes in preparation. “Bless me… Father, for I have sinned.” Her voice caught at the prospect of referring to the heathen the way she would a priest, but she moved past it for the sake of being done with this charade. “It has been thirteen days since my last confession and I accuse myself of the following sins. I lack forgiveness for the northmen still, despite your teachings. I harbor resentment and violent intent for many of them. One in particular inspires an intense desire of violence in me recently.” She could almost pretend with her eyes shut that she was in the confessional and not living this nightmare. Until he laughed at her last statement, at least.

“What of your other desires, Christian?” he asked.

She refused to acknowledge him or give him the satisfaction of a reaction at this. “Father, equally troubling is that the impure and unwanted thoughts and dreams have remained.”

“Simply remained? Have they not gotten worse? Remember that you must not lie to the Gods.”

He had her there, to her disappointment. “They have remained and gotten worse. The devil himself tempts me daily to turn to sin, Father, and I ask for your help in resisting him.”

“And how does the devil tempt you?”

Linette was beginning to realize the catch to Ivar’s “generosity,” and she squirmed trying to decide how to safely answer. “He… places himself where I might notice him and makes himself desirable.”

“Desirable? So you desire the devil?” She could hear Ivar’s voice growing huskier and resolved to keep her eyes shut until he allowed her to leave.

“No, I…yes, but I don’t want to desire him, Father. He makes it hard for me with his actions. He forces me to want his body.”

“Does this want give you sinful feelings?”

“Yes. Sinful feelings like hatred… and lust.” She would not cry. She refused to cry right now.

“And did you act on this lust, Linette?” The sound of the bed shifting under his weight could be heard and she hoped he’d moved back.

“Y-y-yes.” Her heart was beating faster and she wanted to believe it was caused by panic or fear.

“When?” There was no way to mistake this for anything but a demand.

“Three days ago. God, please forgive me for I know it was a sin.” She didn’t want him to ask what she knew was coming.

“Tell me how. Describe the sin.” She bit her lip instead and flinched when he grabbed her hair and tugged her head to an angle. His hot breath could be felt on her neck when he whispered, “Confess in full to your God, or you will stay until you do.”

His grip loosened then, and she could hear as leaned back and away from her. Her face burned with shame and she obeyed as quietly as she could. “I snuck into an empty store room and removed my shift Lord. I touched myself while thinking sinful thoughts of the devil. Even though I knew it was wrong, I did not stop.”

“Where did you touch yourself, sinner?”

A jolt of electricity ran up her spine at the name, and she tried to ignore how admitting her actions in such detail was causing her body to heat with desire. “I touched my breasts, sir. I pinched and groped at them until I couldn’t stand it. My thighs too. I touched them with gentle strokes.” Linette was squirming again, though this time not from discomfort.

“And your cunt? Did you touch your dirty fucking cunt? I bet you did. I bet you had your fingers soaking wet and rubbing that fucking clit didn’t you?” Ivar was letting out little gasps and practically moaned his last words.

Linette’s eyes flew open in shock and her mouth fell open at the sight in front of her. Ivar had undone his belt at some point and pushed his pants down to his thighs. He pumped his hand slowly around his fully erect cock and she could see precum beading at the tip. He was leaning back on his other hand and staring at her directly, a smile forming as she met his gaze.

“You haven’t finished your confession, woman.” His hips jerked up drawing her attention back to the slow pump of his hand. “What’s the name of this devil?”

Her breath came in ragged when she inhaled. “Ivar,” she whimpered and squeezed her knees tightly.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite hear that.” He purred, though she knew from the pleased look on his face that he had certainly heard her.

“Ivar, you’re the devil.” She couldn’t hide the desire in her voice, any more than she could tear her gaze away from his cock.

“That’s right, and you desire me, don’t you?”

“Yes.” She sobbed in defeat.

“You can’t even finish your confession, can you?”

She didn’t trust herself to speak. Instead she simply shook her head.

“What will you do, then? What do you want?” His hand moved even slower and his tongue came out in a prolonged lick of his lips.

“You. I want you, Ivar.” She’d lost the fight against her needs. There was no point in fighting against this anymore.

Ivar let out a victorious laugh and removed his hand from around his cock. “Take off your dress then.”

She stood to obey him, ignoring the ache in her thighs from kneeling for so long. The laces holding up her dress were easily undone, and soon the fabric pooled at her feet. His gaze slid smoothly down her body and he gave a slow smile before motioning for her to approach. Climbing onto the bed, she hesitated when she realized that she didn’t know how he wanted her.

Sensing her hesitation, he clarified quickly. “Over my lap. Now.” He waited for her to comply before running his hand slowly up the back of her thigh. “I believe you Christians believe in something called penance? I’ve decided to help you with that as well.” His hand came down on her cheeks without warning then. Linette tried to sit up then, but he laid his other hand behind her shoulders to keep her down for him. “Now now, Linette. You just admitted to many sins, and you’ll take your punishment like a good little Christian.”

Another loud smack as his hand came down again. This time she gasped aloud at the heat filling each cheek. As much as it stung she could also feel a growing pleasure beneath the pain. He slapped each cheek in quick succession then and she could feel tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Again and again his hand struck her flesh, tearing sobs from her throat that were quieted by his affirmations that she was doing so well for him.

Tensing as she sensed his hand coming down again, she let out a deep moan when it struck across her lips instead with a duller thud than the previous hits. His hand stayed there and he began working his fingers in circles, digging them between her lips and feeling how soaked she was.

“I think you have enjoyed your punishment a little too much you dirty slut. See how wet you are?” His fingers found her clit then and she couldn’t help but let out a quick collection of gasps as he circled it relentlessly. When her legs began to shake, he pulled his fingers away from the bundle of nerves and pushed two of them into her with ease. He slid them in and out of her in long, slow strokes as she rolled her hips against his hand. “Do you want to cum already, you fucking whore?”

Her walls clenched around his fingers in answer and she found herself begging, “Yes, please please please Ivar. I’m so close.”

He pulled his fingers out, leaving her feeling empty and unsatisfied. A light smack to her ass and then he was tugging at her hair to move her into a kneeling position beside him. Fingers still tangled in her hair, he pulled her into a demanding kiss. He dominated her mouth with his own for a bit before planting quick kisses along her jaw and towards her ear. “It seems I am out of patience for the night. You can cum on my cock, if you want it so bad.” Nipping her earlobe when he finished relaxing his grip in her hair. With a satisfied grunt at the dazed look on her face he fell back onto the bed.

Wasting no time at all, Linette moved to straddle his hips. He smiled as she wrapped her hand around his shaft and stroked up and down slowly before placing herself above him. Slowly, she let herself sink down onto him, sighing at how well he filled her and taking her time. She got about halfway down before he let out a quiet curse and gripped her hips to slam her flush against his body. He pounded up into her and watched as her breasts bounced deliciously in time to the pace he set.

“Gods above you’re so fucking tight.” He groaned and used his tight grip to make her grind down onto his hips. She could feel the tip of his cock brush against the perfect spot with every rock. Soon, he was back to bucking up into her as a hand traveled up to knead at her breast. Each thrust was punctuated by a gasp from Linette as she leaned forward into his grip so that his cock hit at a better angle. “You’re so fucking hot riding me. I bet you’re gonna cum soon, you filthy girl.” He rasped and pinched and tugged at her hardened nipple.

“Yes, yes sir. Please. Please I want to come.” Her words came out between gasps and she was struggling to keep her eyes focused on his at this point.

Ivar wasn’t being any quieter though and seemed to have equal trouble stringing words together. “Fuck yourself on my cock then. I want to see you lose it you fucking wanton whore.” He let out another string of words in Norse then that she couldn’t understand, but could guess the meaning of. Obeying his desire though she began to lift herself up and down his shaft at a steady pace, hands using his chest for balance.

She barely registered one of his hands traveling up her thigh until his thumb was brushing against her clit every time she rocked down onto him. “Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.” She cursed repeatedly as the stimulation from his thumb brought her right to the edge of her orgasm. Soon, thrusting was forgotten as she rocked desperately on his lap.

“Who’s the fucking devil huh?” Ivar was switching between Norse and English now as he watched her with intensity. The hand on her breast stopped it’s attentions long enough for him to sit up and tangle it in her hair. Curses turned into guttural panting as she raked her nails down his back in retaliation.

“Ivar,” she cried just as she came around his cock. Her cunt squeezing around him as she shuddered in pure bliss and causing him to fall back, bringing her body with him until they were lying on the bed together. He took advantage of his improved leverage to take control of the pace and he began pounding up into her at a hard rhythm. His rutting caused her orgasm to draw out longer until he was moaning into her neck and coming inside her with erratic thrusts and strung together curses.

They lay there panting on the bed together, bodies slick with sweat and hot to the touch. His arms eventually relaxed from the grip he held her in, and she rolled off him so he could move back to lie against the headboard. When she could trust her legs not to shake overly much, she dared to move off the bed and began to pull her dress back on.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ivar’s voice came from behind her quietly and she turned in confusion.

“I am going to bed, my lord.” She wondered if she had displeased him somehow and worried he would punish her in a less pleasant way.

“You never finished your confession thrall. Therefore, you must stay here all night.” He clucked his tongue then and nestled down into the furs.

“I’m… to stand here all night then?” She whispered in shock as she remembered what he’d told her.

“No. You can sleep in the bed if you wish.” He peeked one eye open to watch her reaction.

“Yes sir,” she answered slowly. She hadn’t expected him to want her to stay after he’d finished with her, but if that was what he desired she would be a fool to deny him. Dropping her dress back to the floor, she climbed into the bed and settled herself beneath the furs.

Ivar sighed then and grabbed her around the waist to pull her close to his body. “You will sleep like this tonight. Tomorrow you will return to your chores, but tonight you will lay beside me and rest.”

“As you wish, sir,” Linette whispered and began to relax into his embrace. It was certainly more comfortable than the floor with the other thralls. Besides, she could worry and feel ashamed plenty tomorrow. Tonight she resolved to try and enjoy the moment.

Just as she was comfortable and ready to fall asleep in Ivar’s arms, she felt him shift forward and he bit softly at her ear before whispering, “Next week you will have to confess again I think.” His tongue swiped a line down her neck before he settled back comfortably.

Sleep was a little longer in coming after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed my very first smut work. I'm gonna crawl into a hole now.


End file.
